


Sequence

by NanakiBH



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Domestic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-30
Updated: 2011-06-30
Packaged: 2017-11-04 05:21:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NanakiBH/pseuds/NanakiBH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at what slowly comes to be between two heroes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Substitute

He wasn't sure what he was more impressed by: the fact that the other knucklehead heroes had managed to agree on a gift for him or the fact that it had actually gotten to him in one piece. After hearing about the kinds of hell the thing had gone through, he was surprised that it didn't have any split seams or tears in it. Even after it found its way to the police station with Antonio, it was still in perfect condition by the time it returned to his hands. That kind of dedication...

Who did they think they were, anyway? He didn't ask for a gift. He didn't even tell them it was his birthday in the first place. And what kind of stupid present was that supposed to be? A pink stuffed rabbit wasn't the kind of gift you get a grown man. Out of the bunch of them, he figured that one of them would at least have had the sense to realize that.

But there it was, in one piece looking brand new and untarnished on his bed, happily smiling at nothing in particular. Had it really been that important to them?

From the foot of his bed, Barnaby stared at it crossly, almost as if he could will it away; as if he intensified his stare, that he could make it vanish from his sight. It just stayed there, though, looking so perfectly at home against his pillows. The thing was already a fixture of his bed and a member of his house. Even if it was just made of fluff, he knew what all that effort had meant.

It wasn't really the rabbit that was the important thing. Even if it had been ripped to shreds, the fact that they had made the effort...

He took off his glasses and rounded the bed to set them on the bedside table, telling himself that it was just because he was tired and his eyes were irritated. He wasn't crying.

He hated it, he really did. Even as he laid down and wrapped his arms around it, he hated it.

"Who do you think I am?" he mumbled, burying his face in the doll. "I don't deserve this."


	2. Placement

“You got some room in there for me?”

Kotetsu gestures to the tub; specifically, the open spot of water between Barnaby's bent knees that's covered with bubbles. His legs snap closed instantly when he notices him looking, even if it was unlikely that Kotetsu saw anything and he turns his face to the side.

“Have you heard of waiting? You shouldn't just barge in on someone while they're in the bath.”

“I'll wash your back for you.”

“Did you even hear me? It's impolite.”

Kotetsu snorts and slips off his towel. The second that Barnaby glances over at him is a second too long and he immediately averts his gaze again, choosing to pretend as though Kotetsu's bathroom wall tiling is the most fascinating thing he's seen.

“It's my bathroom and you just happen to be in it. Now scoot forward.”

He'd refuse him, but he has his point.

Although, it's still definitely weird; something like this. Barnaby doesn't even know what to call him yet, but if he's already staying over at his house, then maybe it would be best for him to assume that they're more than just partners or friends now, if they were ever even that to start with. Reluctantly, he slides forward, giving him just enough space to wedge himself into the tub behind him.

He's close; really close, like if he were to lean back again, he'd be feeling all of him up against his back. When he first came to Kotetsu's house, he noticed how many places there were that felt too open and alone. His bathroom, though, was extremely cramped. For one person, it was probably quite alright, but it wasn't a place for the both of them to be in at the same time like this. Especially the bathtub.

“I really don't get you.”

As if some kind of childish means of retaliation, Kotetsu drapes himself entirely over Barnaby's back and wraps his arms firmly around his waist. Barnaby holds his breath and refuses to yell at him, knowing now that he'd just be playing right into his hands.

“You didn't seem to have any problem with contact last night,” Kotetsu mumbles against his neck. His breath tickles, so Barnaby waves a hand behind himself in an attempt to whack him in the head. He misses and then Kotetsu manages to get a hold of his wrist. The next second, Barnaby has Kotetsu's lips pressed against his and he just doesn't complain.

“You...” Barnaby mutters flatly once he's allowed to breathe. He says it with the most long-suffering face, like it pains him to speak it.

“Hey. Hey.”

He has his neck craned at a weird angle (come on, it's so cramped) so he can see the look Kotetsu gives him in response.

Barnaby sighs.

“If you're just going to annoy me, then you aren't allowed to look disappointed when I get mad at you. And I thought you were going to wash my back.”

Although he says in the kind of voice a parent uses to scold their child, it seems to make Kotetsu brighten back up. The arms around him loosen and he can hear the top of a bottle being uncapped somewhere behind him. Then there are Kotetsu's hands against his back; one scooping up some water to dampen his skin while the other works the soap into a lather. By now, he shouldn't be so surprised when he feels himself relaxing, but it's not bad.

It feels nice and it makes him happy, even if he doesn't feel like he deserves it.

When did he last feel like this, he wonders? Happy. He can't remember anymore.

Happy to score points. Happy when people idolize him. Happy when Kotetsu doesn't call him to ask him annoying things.

But happy when he does.

He can't explain why it makes him happy to feel him close. He didn't think he would ever need anyone like this because he's always been fine enough by himself. But maybe “fine” is a word that he's only loosely defined, because his definition somehow crumbled when he realized that being alone with Kotetsu made him feel more than just fine.

“Thank you.”

“Hm?” Kotetsu's hands pause for a second, but then he laughs quietly to himself and moves to spread the suds over Barnaby's shoulders. “Mhmn, no problem, partner.”


	3. Together

There's rustling beside the bed. His thoughts are only just starting to register it, along with that fact that he's even in a bed and not doing... what was it again? Swimming? No, maybe it was fishing. It was a pretty good dream. And now he can't remember because of that rustling – whatever it is – but... Oh well. Maybe if he just falls back asleep he'll go back to the dream.

“Are you awake?”

No, he's not. His eyes are closed and he's got an arm flung over the side of the bed and he's probably two seconds away from falling out entirely, but he's definitely asleep. More or less. He hears words, but his mind isn't recognizing what they are, just that they're spoken with the kind of voice he doesn't want to listen to in the morning.

“Kotetsu-san.”

He's asleep.

“Oji-san.”

Oh, he thinks blearily, so that's who it is. Who else would be in his room at this time anyway? It's been so many years living alone now that he nearly forgot what it was really like to have someone wake him up in the morning. He was never very good at doing that for himself, even if he remembered to set his alarm. It wasn't his fault that his clock ended up on the floor more often than it worked to wake him up. How could he be blamed when it was just so annoying?

“Oji-san, wake up. You're forgetting Kaede's recital again.” When there's a pause filled with silence, a hand grabs his shoulder and shakes him rigorously. “It's in thirty minutes.”

He shoots up with a kind of speed he didn't know he was even capable of. The sudden change in position makes his head pound and his eyes feel like they've been filled with razorblades when he tries to open them. Barnaby huffs in a very unsympathetic way and continues to button his shirt.

“Wait, what are you...”

“I'm getting ready to leave. You're going, aren't you?”

When he thinks about it and glances back at his clock, he realizes that he doesn't even have the time to shower anymore. In fact, he's barely got time to get dressed. As it is, he may be best off trying to get dressed in the car. As long as Barnaby drives. Is he willing to drive?

Wait. Why was he up and acting like he was going? Why was he going?

“You're going?”

“I hate to tell you this, Kotetsu, but your daughter trusts me to be on time and I will be there whether you're there with me or not. I won't allow for her to be embarrassed.”

Kotetsu lets his eyes adjust finally and blinks at Barnaby. “You're... a really good parent.”

“Idiot, that's your job.”

Now, Kotetsu just wishes he could have a little more time to lay there to appreciate the flustered look on Barnaby's face.


End file.
